Utmost Art. George Herbert and the proper reticence of "Prayer (I)"

PRAYER. (I)         

PRAYER the Churches banquet, Angels age,
        Gods breath in man returning to his birth,
        The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage,
The Christian plummet sounding heav’n and earth ;

Engine against th’ Almightie, sinner's towre,
        Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear,
        The six daies world-transposing in an houre,
A kinde of tune, which all things heare and fear ;

Softnesse, and peace, and joy, and love, and blisse,
        Exalted Manna, gladnesse of the best,
        Heaven in ordinarie, man well drest,
The milkie way, the bird of Paradise,

        Church-bels beyond the stars heard, the souls bloud,
        The land of spices, something understood.

***^^^***

Is there anywhere in the poetry of our langauge, a richer meditation on what prayer could, or might be? No cutting of mystery down to size here. Instead an opening up of theological possibility and spiritual option. The absence of the verb to be, and therefore the reluctance to define, mean Herbert is not saying what prayer is - instead he links a catena of images, suggestive rather than definitive, biblical and classical, allusive and elusive, but each of them hinting at why, in the words of one of Herbert's greatest fans, when it comes to devotion, "You are here to kneel / where prayer has been valid." (T S Eliot, 'Little Gidding', The Four Quartets)

I have a copy of this sonnet, written out in calligraphic script by a friend, since died, who learned calligraphy as a Japanese POW, sharing the same prison compound as Laurens Van der Post. That sheet of paper (along with another by R S Thomas, 'The Musician', worked by the same artist which I posted earlier), are the nearest I possess to literary Icons - combining disciplined skill and art of production with the crafted literary beauty of content. The Herbert sonnet I've looked at, read and re-read, know by heart, and its depth and range of reference to human longing and frustrated spiritual reach, still astonishes, and reassures.

Then some years ago I published a paper on "Prayer (I)", exploring the subtle and complex imagery Herbert has woven together, doing my level best to appreciate Herbert's utmost art. At no stage did I do more than skim the surface. Which is to be expected when studying a supreme exponent of metaphysical poetry, whose passionate goal was to write verse worthy of the One whose praise was beyond human words, yet whose Love made silence impossible. So I keep coming back to this poem, heartened by its power to resist the solvent of critical analysis, and encouraged that it frustrates overly curious theologising. Reminds me again of Eliot's words:

You are not here to verify,

Instruct yourself, or inform curiosity,

Or carry report. You are here to kneel

Where prayer has been valid. 

Comments

[Ruth Gouldbourne]

I adore this poem. Like you, I come back to it and back to it - especially when prayer seems to make no sense. It is a glimpse of possibility. Thank you

[Geoff Colmer]

Hi Jim! I recalled your post on Herbert's Prayer (1) as I started reading Dennis Lennon's Turning the Diamond: Eploring George Herbert's Images of Prayer, this evening. It was recommended by a close friend on Monday and Amazon delivered today. Can I be so bold as to suggest that you would like it very much indeed!

And as I recommended to my friend in return, there is an gorgeous setting of it to music by Roxanne Panufnik, called Prayer (predictably) and sung by The Sixteen, available as a download at iTunes and Amazon for 0.79p.